


Teeth

by Doceo_Percepto



Series: A Noncanon Version of Little Nightmares II [6]
Category: Little Nightmares (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, like the idea of writing a serious one though, this sounds so serious but it's really not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:48:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26020660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doceo_Percepto/pseuds/Doceo_Percepto
Summary: Six is going through some changes.
Series: A Noncanon Version of Little Nightmares II [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1652644
Comments: 5
Kudos: 111





	Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> So an anonymous commenter mentioned wanting to see a fic where Six grows fangs as part of her lifecycle, since during TAM, she's got flat teeth/normal canines.
> 
> I leapt on the idea thinking that I'd make something grimdark and spooky about her growing fangs and Mono being unnerved about what she's becoming. And instead, somehow this fic played out more like a kid simply losing their baby teeth, pfft. Maybe some day I'll write a different version, but since the grimdark version wasn't working out so well, here we are!

Six is too old to be losing teeth. Granted, you don’t know how old she is exactly, but you know that you were fourteen when you first met, and it’s been a few years since then. You know also that the two of you no longer fit in a lot of the tiny spaces that once you hid in. So Six is way too old to be losing teeth.

Therefore it concerns you when you see her _wiggling_ one: sitting by the fire and absent-mindedly pushing her finger on a canine like it’s bothering her. There’s gotta be some give because why else would someone sit there pushing on their tooth over and over again?

“Is it loose?” You ask her worriedly, and she snaps out of her haze to look at you in surprise.

She shrugs and pinches her fingers together, _just a little._

“Did you bang it on something? Six, those are your permanent teeth; they’re not supposed to be loose…”

She seems to have not realized this was a concern, and her brows furrow worriedly. Did she think people just gained and lost teeth their entire life?

“C’mere, let me see-”

She obediently pulls up her lips so you can take a look. You’re not a dentist or a doctor, so… far as you’re concerned, it just looks like a tooth, although the gums might be slightly swollen in that area. 

Frowning, you pull away. “All right well… don’t wiggle it, okay? It may have gotten damaged somehow, and it needs to recover.”

For a while, Six leaves it alone, and you eventually simply assume that whatever damage happened, her teeth and gums healed from it, and there is nothing more to worry about.

This is a wrong assumption. 

A few days later, Six is enthusiastically tearing muscle and sinew from bone, while you recline in the background, letting her do her thing. It’s another rat this time, so you don’t feel burdened by guilt or anything (better rat than kid!). In fact, you’re even looking forward to the bubbly attitude she often has after eating, even if said attitude is not _quite_ as energetic as it would be if she had eaten a human.

Therefore, it’s instantly obvious that something is wrong when she returns with a furrow in her brow and her expression all scrunched up. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, only for her to flop by your side and make a miserable noise. “C’mon, it was fresh and everything; what’s there to complain a- oh.”

She’d peeled back her lips again, to show off that same canine tooth. It’s now crooked in its socket. Six uses her tongue to wiggle it, demonstrating its newfound flexibility.

“ _Eww_ ,” you whisper softly: it’s been far too long since you were at an age where you did the same thing yourself to gross out adults, and the sight is a lot different now. Anyway, her teeth shouldn’t be doing this!

“Six! What even happened… I don’t think the tooth can go back to the way it was…”

She shrugs and scowls. Undoubtedly the encroaching loss of something rather important to her ability to eat is not something she’s looking forward to. But it’s as unfortunate as it is inevitable. Sure enough, another day later and the tooth is out of her mouth and in her palm. She looks confusedly down at it and then at you, like you can provide some explanation. 

“You’ve been brushing your teeth, right?” You ask, even though that’s a dumb question. The two of you do scrub your teeth when you can, either with toothbrushes stolen from others’ bathrooms, or twigs or leaves in a pinch. Maybe neither of you have the _best_ oral hygiene, but neither is it the worst, and she’s way too young to already be losing teeth from something like that. 

“Well, maybe it’s like I said before,” you say doubtfully. “You just bonked it too hard on something and it got jostled loose…”

Whatever the reason, life goes on. One week later, and two more teeth, this time on the other side, begin to wiggle. At this point the _both_ of you are getting worried, because what if _all_ her teeth end up falling out? It might not be the end of the world, but you’re getting horrible visions of having to _prepare_ Six’s meals for her, and… yeah, no. Anyway, it’s gotta be unhealthy for someone to lose all their teeth when they haven’t even hit their twenties! 

Annoyingly frequently now, you remind Six not to wiggle the teeth, and to be _gentle_ on them, dangit. Likewise, she sometimes has you check to make sure no other perfectly sturdy adult teeth are deciding to pull any funny business. And it’s exactly that diligence that first enables you to notice a tiny white pinprick rupturing from the empty spot in her gums where she lost her first canine. A new tooth, growing in.

“Did it just take you forever to lose your baby teeth?” You ask Six, completely confounded. 

She shrugs, equally puzzled.

Your new theory is that Six simply was very delayed about losing her baby teeth. This holds up well when two more teeth are lost, and new white pinpricks appear in her gums. The odd thing? She’s lost eight teeth now, but the lost teeth were perfectly symmetrical: she lost four on the top, four on the bottom, and exactly the same teeth on either side (ie, her canines and the teeth behind them, as well as the same on the bottom). It’s weirdly specific, especially when all the new teeth end up sharper than you'd expect.

It’s hard to remain ignorant about what’s really going on for much longer. Deep deep down, you had begun to suspect. Perhaps you even started wondering when you first saw that new tooth coming in. But the thought rises only closer and closer to the surface until it breaches and becomes impossible to ignore anymore. 

She has eight new teeth in, and each one of them would be more aptly called a fang, as each is sharp as sin and shaped in a predatory curve. The traditional canines are longest, reaching past her other teeth. Long enough that it takes her some time and practice to stop nicking her lips on them.

So you get it. Six didn’t lose her baby teeth. She’s lost what _would_ be permanent teeth, if she were strictly human. 

And that’s the rub. _If_ she were human. It’s getting harder and harder to pretend, especially now that her wily grins hint at it.

Six has never conveyed to you her history; where she was born, who her parents were, things like that. And her being mute has little to do with that silence, you feel: this is all information she isn’t keen on sharing. So although you wonder, you don’t ask. You’re not even sure if what Six knows would answer the questions you have, because sometimes you catch her gazing off into the distance, rubbing a thumb to the new teeth, and her expression is bemused, lost. Like she can’t figure it out, either, and isn’t sure about how to feel.

“You know I like you for _you_ , right?” You tell her once, and her returning smile might be creepy with those extra teeth, but it’s warm, too. 


End file.
